


Powerful

by Arbryna



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Angst, F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbryna/pseuds/Arbryna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I could teach you how to control your emotions, if you like."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Powerful

It only takes a few more days of waking up with a hollow ache in her chest to convince Kahlan that maybe she should take Cara up on her offer. If Cara knows some secret to making this pain more bearable, maybe it's worth spending a little more time with the Mord-Sith. Besides, whatever issues Kahlan may have with the woman, she has to admit that Cara is a skilled fighter; she might stand to learn something.

So while Zedd demolishes the remains of breakfast, she seeks Cara out. She finds the blonde a good distance from the camp, her sleek form still as a statue as she takes aim at a rabbit hopping through the underbrush. Kahlan stays where she is, trying to remain silent to avoid frightening away Cara's game, and she's left with nothing else to do but watch the woman.

A slight breeze flutters through the loose blonde hair, brushing it against Cara's neck, but she doesn't seem to notice. Her gaze is firmly focused on her prize, her muscles firm as she holds the bowstring taut next to her cheek. Then, as quick as lightning, she releases the arrow and it finds its mark effortlessly. The animal is dead before it even realizes anything has happened.

A hint of a smile touches Cara's lips at the accuracy of the shot, and there's something almost beautiful about the feral satisfaction glinting in those emerald eyes. Kahlan shakes her head, chuckling silently to herself at the thought. She'd probably find herself on the receiving end of Cara's agiels - again - if she ever dared to even imply that the blonde was beautiful. Deadly, yes. Ruthless, certainly. Highly skilled, without a doubt. But beautiful?

Richard wouldn't let it stop him. He's made it his mission to humanize Cara, to soften her sharp edges, not in order to make her more acceptable company, but out of a genuine respect for and belief in the woman behind the leather armor. Kahlan didn't believe him, at first, was sure that he was being hopelessly naive to think that a Mord-Sith could change. Recently, she's been forced to admit that maybe he's on to something.

Thinking about Richard brings a sharp pang to her chest, reminding her of the reason she's sought Cara out. Drawing a breath to steady the rush of emotion, she steps forward as Cara retrieves her game.

"You know, we did just eat breakfast," Kahlan says with an amused smile.

Cara looks back at her, not at all surprised by her presence. "Which means in roughly two candlemarks, the wizard will make us stop again so he can fill the bottomless pit he calls a stomach," she smirks as she pulls the arrow out of the carcass.

"Point taken," Kahlan replies with a soft laugh. Silence falls between them as Cara wipes down the arrow with a rag before returning it to her quiver. Kahlan fidgets, trying to think of a way to bring up her request as Cara turns her attention to her kill, pulling a sharp hunting knife from her boot.

"Did you want something, Confessor?"

Kahlan bites her lip, watching as Cara begins the task of butchering the animal. "I was thinking about your offer," she says nervously.

Cara looks up, confusion clouding her eyes for a few moments before she realizes what Kahlan is referring to. She smirks as she returns to her task. "So, the Mother Confessor needs my guidance after all."

"Cara," Kahlan chides, her cheeks flushing self-consciously. "I'm not about to admit that love is a weakness. But I miss Richard," she admits simply. "Sooner or later that's going to distract me, and I can't afford to risk that happening when I'm in a fight."

Cara nods, biting back the sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue. Wrapping the meat she's prepared in a clean cloth, she sets it aside so she can bury the remains. She can feel Kahlan's eyes on her, waiting for a response, and she can't resist drawing out the silence just a little bit longer, savoring the Confessor's discomfort. When the remains have been dealt with, she brushes off her gloves, pushes herself to her feet, and grabs the bundle of meat.

"Let's get started then," Cara says, slinging her bow over her shoulder and breezing past Kahlan on the way back to camp.

Kahlan gapes for a moment before rushing after Cara. "Wait, now?"

"Why not?" Cara shrugs. "The sooner you learn how to control your emotions, the less likely you are to get distracted."

Kahlan wants to argue further, but with how fast Cara is walking, they reach the camp before she can try. Zedd looks up at them, his eyes brightening as they fall on the bundle in Cara's hand.

"Oh good, I was just thinking I could go for a snack," he says eagerly, setting aside the pheasant bone he'd been sucking on.

Cara glares at him before stalking over to her horse, tucking the bundle securely in a waxed leather saddlebag. "While I don't doubt your appetite, wizard, I caught this for our lunch."

Zedd's face falls, and he sighs. "I take that to mean you ladies are ready to depart?"

"Actually, no." Cara's eyebrow is quirked mischievously as she glances over at Kahlan. The Confessor shakes her head, giving Cara a wide-eyed look of disapproval. Cara smirks. "Kahlan and I are going to go spar. She needs more practice with that sword."

Zedd's eyebrows furrow as he gives Kahlan a curious look. Kahlan is volunteering to spend time with the Mord-Sith who killed her sister? He must have missed more than he thought when Denna took him on an involuntary tour of the Midlands.

Kahlan shrugs, grateful for the excuse Cara has offered. While she may have decided to take lessons from the Mord-Sith, it's not exactly something she'd expect Zedd to understand. She's still not sure _she_ understands it, but if it will help, she's willing to try.

Cara slips her bow and quiver off of her shoulder, setting them down next to her pack. "We'd better get started, if we're going to get any distance in today."

Kahlan nods, glancing back at Zedd before following Cara away from camp.

***

To Kahlan's surprise, the first thing Cara does when they reach the clearing is gesture for her to sit down. Kahlan complies, sinking down onto a fallen log and looking nervously up at the Mord-Sith.

"So, I'm curious," Cara begins, her lips turning up in a smirk. "Why exactly did you ask for my help?"

Kahlan's cheeks flush as she looks at the ground. Something about the Mord-Sith makes her feel almost embarrassed for having feelings at all; as though they really are a sign of weakness after all. Chiding herself for thinking that way, she raises her eyes back to Cara's, finding her strength along with her voice.

"I've always found strength in my feelings. My passions, convictions - even my regrets have been tools that made me a stronger person. They gave me a reason to fight." Kahlan pauses, frowning as her mind comes back around to Richard. "Until now," she admits. "I... _hurt_ when I think about Richard being so far away from me, even though I know we can't be together." A frustrated sigh flutters past her lips, her eyes moistening with tears. "This pain...it doesn't make me strong, it just hurts. And I can't suppress it, or ignore it."

Cara scoffs, and Kahlan's eyes shoot up to meet hers. "There's your problem, Confessor," Cara drawls, crossing her arms over her chest. "You give your feelings too much power. You either allow yourself to be ruled by them, or you pretend they don't exist."

Kahlan quirks an eyebrow skeptically at Cara. "And how is that different from what you do?" she challenges.

Cara smirks. "It's a common misconception that Mord-Sith do not feel," she says, ignoring the look of surprise that jumps onto Kahlan's face. "Mord-Sith feel just as keenly as anyone else. Maybe more." A dangerous smile spreads over her lips. "We're simply trained to take what we feel and shape it into something useful."

Kahlan cocks her head in interest. She has to admit, she's never given much thought to the Mord-Sith's apparent lack of emotion. If what Cara is saying is true, this might be more helpful than Kahlan could have imagined.

"Take off the sword," Cara orders briskly. Kahlan raises an eyebrow, but she slides the baldric over her head nonetheless, resting the sword in her lap. "How do you feel, when you look at it?"

Kahlan looks down at the scabbard, the finely-wrought silver and gold detailing glinting in the late morning sun. The leather grip warms under her hand as she clutches it, running the fingers of her other hand over the scrollwork in the crossguard. She feels the now-familiar ache swell in her chest, rising in her throat. "I feel...sad," she says softly, feeling the weight of Cara's eyes on her. "That I'm the one holding it, not Richard. And I'm worried about him, worried that something will happen to him and I won't be there to stop it."

Cara is quiet for a moment, pondering what Kahlan has said. Kahlan looks up at her, tears shining in her eyes, and Cara feels a twist of something unfamiliar in her chest. Shaking it off, she forces her mind back to the task at hand.

"Good," she says approvingly. Kahlan looks back up at her, confusion swirling in her glistening eyes. Cara returns the glance steadily. "Now look down at the sword, and feel."

Kahlan inhales shakily, feeling the weight of Cara's eyes on her as she looks back down at her lap. She thinks of Richard, and the ache in her chest intensifies. It's almost like holding her hand over a fire, feeling the flames lick at her skin; the pain is subtle, at first, but before long it sears into her skin, turning her blood to molten lava. The pain fills her up, until tears are running down her cheeks unbidden, and a choked sob escapes her throat.

Cara shifts her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, trying to look anywhere but at the Confessor weeping in front of her. She knows this is her fault; she's the one who offered to help Kahlan with her emotions, she had to have known that it would lead to having to be _exposed_ to said emotions. Still, that doesn't mean she has to be happy about it.

When Kahlan gulps back another sob, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, Cara decides she's reached her limit. "That's enough for today," she says curtly, the stoic expression on her face disguising her discomfort. "We should get back to the wizard before he decides to eat the horses."

Kahlan's head shoots up, cheeks stained with tears as as she meets Cara's eyes. "That's it?" she asks incredulously, sniffing back more tears.

Cara nods, stepping back from Kahlan awkwardly. "I'll let you compose yourself."

Kahlan wipes roughly at her cheeks as she watches Cara turn and walk away, wondering what she's gotten herself into.

***

The next day, Cara sits her down on another log in another clearing, and repeats her instructions to take out the sword. Kahlan does so warily, still unsure of how this is supposed to help. She feels even weaker than before, having let the full extent of her emotions run wild.

At least, that's what she thinks.

"Now look at the sword," Cara instructs. "Think of Richard. It's his sword, it should be in his hands, not yours."

Kahlan's eyes shoot up to Cara's, pain flashing in them. "Why would you say that?" she asks, a wounded quiver in her voice.

"Are you saying I'm wrong?" Cara challenges.

"No," Kahlan fumbles, "but you don't have to be cruel."

Cara rolls her eyes at the wounded look Kahlan shoots her. "Do you want my help, or not?"

Kahlan returns her gaze to the sword, lightly stroking along the scabbard.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Cara says, a vicious smile curling over her lips. "To know that you're going to hand that sword over to whatever puppet Shota has picked out. That someone else will get the glory for saving the world, when it should have been Richard."

Kahlan sniffles, gripping the sword so tightly that her knuckles are white. Cara seems to know exactly which buttons to press, and Kahlan is torn between dissolving in tears and drawing the sword and forcing her to stop.

"Or even worse," Cara's voice turns mocking. "This new Seeker will fail. He won't be as strong as Richard, or you won't be able to protect him as well. And the world will end, without you ever seeing Richard's face again."

It's enough to push Kahlan over the edge, and her head shoots up, fire blazing in the watery blue of her eyes. She's on her feet in an instant, the Sword of Truth ringing out as the scabbard falls to the ground. Cara just steps back and grins, drawing her agiels as though this is exactly what she intended.

As Kahlan raises the sword and the satisfaction on Cara's face only grows, it occurs to Kahlan that maybe this _was_ her plan. But she's too far gone for logic; the pain is tight in her chest, making it hard to breathe, and the rage she can feel flowing into her from the sword is the only thing keeping her from breaking.

Cara's eyes flash with exhilaration as she parries Kahlan's first swing with an agiel. “Good,” she pants, jabbing at Kahlan's midsection with her other agiel, “you're learning.”

Kahlan brings the sword down to block the strike, and there is no more room for words. The only sounds are the sharp thwack of steel on leather, and the heavy gasping breaths as they trade blows. Then Cara blocks a downward swing with crossed agiels, pushing the sword up and away as her foot comes up to kick at Kahlan's stomach.

Kahlan stumbles back, gulping for air as one hand leaves the hilt of the sword to clutch at her abdomen. The break in action leaves room for the sharp ache to return to her chest, and flushed with the exertion of battle, Kahlan is helpless to stop it from firmly taking hold. Tears spill freely from her eyes as she sinks back down onto the log, folding in on herself.

This time, Cara feels much less awkward about seeing Kahlan come undone before her; she's devised a plan, and with planning comes confidence. She lets Kahlan cry for a bit, listening for the moment when her breathing grows more even, when the sobs start to die down.

"Tomorrow, you'll be stronger." It's somewhere between a question and a command.

Before Kahlan can respond, Cara is gone, leaving her to pull herself back under control.

***

The next few days bring much of the same: Cara will have Kahlan sit down, lay the sword across her lap, and feel. All the while, she taunts Kahlan, somehow managing to pick out her deepest fears and lay them bare before her. Kahlan does her best to fight back, to turn her despair into rage, but it always ends with her sobbing over the sword, and Cara telling her that next time, she'll be stronger. Kahlan tries to cling to that, but she's waking up every morning with tears dried on her cheeks, and her head has acquired a persistent dull throb from the regular bouts of crying.

Finally, when they've crossed out of the forest and into the outskirts of the swamp of Mathragon, Kahlan decides to voice her growing suspicion. "Are you really doing this to help me?" she asks accusingly, when Cara gives her usual instructions. "Or do you just take some sort of perverse pleasure from seeing me in pain?"

Cara smirks, raising an eyebrow. "Are they mutually exclusive?" When Kahlan clearly doesn't appreciate the joke, Cara huffs impatiently. "In order to control your emotions, Confessor, you have to know them. Intimately."

"Then why does it feel like this is less about me knowing my emotions, and more about you having power over me?" Kahlan challenges, stepping into Cara's personal space.

"I'm not the one weeping over an inanimate object because it _reminds_ me of someone," Cara growls. "If you want me to make you strong, you have to play by my rules."

"How is this making me strong?" Kahlan asks, a hint of desperation creeping into her tone. She steps back, her arms flying out from her sides to emphasize her frustration. "I feel more helpless than ever!"

"The root of your problem, Confessor, is that you're dwelling on things you can't control." Cara cocks her hip, resting one hand on it while the other gestures along with her words. "You can't put the sword back in Richard's hands, and you're too far away to do anything to protect him." Kahlan draws a ragged breath, looking down at the ground as she tries to fight the tears welling up in her eyes. "You need to focus on what you _can_ do."

Blue eyes glisten with emotion as Kahlan looks back up. "What _can_ I do?" she challenges, hating the watery quiver in her voice.

"You can fight." There's an edge of steel in Cara's eyes, in her voice. "You can use the sword as Richard intended - to protect the people, to find this new Seeker, whoever he is. You can make sure that there's a world for Richard to come back to." She rolls her eyes. "For all you know, without Richard stopping to save kittens every other second, we could find the Stone of Tears and seal the rift before he even has time to get to wherever those sisters are taking him."

Cara has a point, and Kahlan knows it. This pain is a selfish indulgence, one that she should know better than to entertain. Kahlan is no stranger to heartache; growing up with the knowledge that she would have to sacrifice her own happiness for the good of the people she was honor-bound to protect has taught her that love is a luxury not afforded to everyone. Still, it had been easier when she had the armor of her status to hide behind; everyone she met saw her as a Confessor, first and foremost, which brought with it a certain degree of trepidation.

But Richard has always seen her as a woman, entitled to her own happiness, and deserving of love. It's thrust her into an unfamiliar position, and every step she's taken down this forbidden path has left her less and less sure of herself; she hadn't realized how much until Richard was gone, his own confidence in her no longer readily available as a substitute for her own. Kahlan misses that, more than anything.

Right after Richard left, she'd managed at least to cling to her confidence in her moral superiority. Cara is a Mord-Sith; there is nothing more despicable save for Darken Rahl himself, and he's long dead. But now here she is, not only tolerating a Mord-Sith, but taking lessons from her.

"How can I fight when I can't stop thinking about him?"

"By changing the _way_ you think about him." Cara gestures to a nearby rock. "Sit down."

“No.” The word is laced with steel, enhanced by the ring of the Sword of Truth as Kahlan draws it over her shoulder.

Cara grins; this is her favorite part anyway. She draws her agiels and begins to circle around Kahlan, waiting for an opening to strike.

Kahlan doesn't give her the chance, lunging forward with the sword with a speed borne of desperation. Cara defends easily, and the dance begins.

This time, though, something happens that Cara has been careful to avoid thus far. Cara misjudges a swing, her block aimed lower than intended, and her agiel lands squarely against the side of Kahlan's wrist.

Kahlan grits her teeth, staring curiously at the tendrils of pain visibly trailing out from the point of impact, but she doesn't pull away. There's something in this pain that she didn't notice the few times she's felt it before; something pure, and focused. Thoughts of Richard fade from her consciousness as the sensation shoots down her arm, clearing her mind of everything but the pain.

Cara almost gasps as Kahlan raises her eyes, a darkness swirling in them that has nothing to do with Confessor magic. Shaken, Cara yanks the agiel away from Kahlan's skin, smoothly flowing into a backhanded blow to the face. Kahlan doesn't miss a beat as she works her jaw, raising the sword to block Cara's next attack.

Eventually, they step apart by mutual unspoken agreement, panting with exertion, eyes glinting with exhilaration. It's the first time this ends without tears.

***

The next morning when she wakes up, clutching the Sword of Truth to her chest as usual, she realizes that she's gone a whole night without crying. The gentle rustling sounds of Kahlan waking catch Cara's attention, and she glances over from where she's keeping watch; just in time to catch the wide smile that flashes across Kahlan's lips. Kahlan briefly catches her gaze, intrigued by the soft hint of... _something_ in Cara's eyes. She can't read the Mord-Sith, though, and Cara looks away all too soon, shaking her head to clear it of whatever thoughts had just passed through.

Kahlan sits up on her bedroll, pondering this development as Cara nudges Zedd awake with her boot, giving him the altogether unnecessary instruction to begin preparing breakfast. With a curt nod to Kahlan, Cara stalks away from camp, and Kahlan pulls herself to her feet to follow, the wheels in her head turning furiously.

This time, before Cara can begin their routine, Kahlan speaks first. "You're very good at this," she says casually. Cara's lips quirk in response, her eyebrow raising as if to point out the obvious nature of the statement. Kahlan smiles, pinning her with a curious gaze. "Before we started this, I thought you didn't feel anything. But that's not true - you've said as much yourself."

Cara crosses her arms and shrugs, uncomfortable with where the conversation seems to be leading.

"What _do_ you feel, Cara?" Kahlan's not sure why she suddenly wants to know so badly, but there was something in those green eyes earlier that she just couldn't put a finger on, and Kahlan is not a person who's accustomed to _not_ knowing things.

The question, though expected, catches Cara off-guard, because she doesn't quite know how to answer it. Over the past couple of weeks, as she's watched Kahlan undertake this emotional journey, Cara has realized that as Kahlan's guide, she is not nearly as detached from it as she'd previously believed. Something's been changing within her, and Kahlan has thankfully either not noticed or not cared. Until now.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Cara replies brusquely. Her eyes dart around, landing on everything but Kahlan as her left hand closes around one of her agiels.

Kahlan's eyes drift down, following the movement, and her lips twitch up slightly at the confirmation. Cara is hiding something, and if she's guarding it this closely, Kahlan is positive she wants to know what it is.

"I'm curious," she replies, locking gazes with Cara. "Humor me."

The challenge hangs in the air between them, and Cara clenches her jaw. "I'm not the one who asked for help, Confessor."

Kahlan narrows her eyes, trying in vain to peer past the walls Cara holds so close. "They're just feelings, Cara. What are you so afraid of?"

Cara sneers, pulling out her agiels more in an attempt to center herself than to prepare for a fight. "Mord-Sith fear nothing."

With a smirk, Kahlan draws the Sword of Truth, holding it at the ready. "Prove it."

Cara opts not to respond with words, lashing out with her agiels in a tightly controlled flurry of strikes. Kahlan meets her blow for blow, until she parries one agiel in a way that leaves her wide open for an attack with the other. Eyes darting between the sword and the oncoming agiel, Kahlan sees her options laid out before her, and morbid curiosity dictates her choice. One hand leaves the hilt of the sword to block the agiel, closing around the leather rod. Her arm spasms with the intensity of the pain, but she holds on, her eyes locked firmly on Cara's.

Wide-eyed with shock, Cara allows her other weapon to drop, focused on the grim conviction in Kahlan's expression as she grips the agiel. There's a deadly beauty in the set of Kahlan's jaw, the proud thrust of her chin. The sight takes Cara's breath away, and hunger climbs up her throat, shining in her eyes.

It catches Kahlan off-guard, and she releases the weapon, flexing her fingers to recover from the pain. The spark in Cara's eyes causes warmth to bloom low in Kahlan's stomach, and she steps back, confused by her body's reactions.

For the first time, Kahlan is the one who walks away, leaving Cara to stare after her. It's not until she's halfway back to camp that she realizes that she hadn't thought of Richard once.

***

That night they make camp in a shallow cave high in the mountains. Zedd is quick to fall asleep after stuffing himself full of dinner, and Kahlan volunteers for first watch. She sits at the mouth of the cave, trying not to look behind her as Cara shifts on her bedroll, searching for a comfortable position on the hard ground. She spent the day avoiding the Mord-Sith, walking with Zedd and listening to him tell her stories about Richard growing up. Thinking about Richard still inspires a twinge of pain, but it's not nearly as sharp as it was before. Kahlan's not sure if it's because the lessons with Cara are working, or because her thoughts are more occupied with Cara herself.

She's not sure when it happened, but at some point over the past few weeks, her feelings about Richard changed. Or rather, she's come to realize that her feelings for Richard have never quite been what she thought they were. Richard's enthusiasm for their star-crossed romance had been infectious, and she'd gotten so swept up in the exhilaration of being loved for who she was that it hadn't occurred to her to question her own feelings. As a Confessor, she has always been convinced that she would never have someone's love without forcing it from them; who was she to turn it away when it was so freely given?

Kahlan has never had a reason to question her feelings for Richard; she knows she loves him, would give her life for him, but now she's not sure how much of that is just her duty as a Confessor. When she tries to envision a future with him - marriage, children, intimacy - the image is hazy, and doesn't come close to inspiring the warmth she felt earlier today, seeing the flash of desire in Cara's eyes.

A frustrated huff reaches her from Cara's bedroll, and Kahlan has to force her eyes not to follow the sound. She bites her lip, hugging her arms to herself as she stares out over the mountains. She's sure now that while Richard may be the first friend she's ever had, that's all he is to her. Her feelings for Cara are altogether more confusing.

***

Kahlan fully expects Cara to forgo their daily training the next day, with the awkward way the previous session had ended. So she's surprised when she wakes to find Cara standing over her, gloved fingers tapping impatiently against a leather-clad hip.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Kahlan rises from her bedroll. She fumbles for the Sword of Truth, laid near her pack the night before. There's a soft pang in her chest as her hand closes around the hilt, but it's quickly overwhelmed by the anticipation fluttering in her stomach as she follows Cara out of the cave.

There are fewer suitable places to spar up in the mountains, but Cara is nothing if not observant, and she leads Kahlan back down the path a ways to a relatively flat area they'd passed the day before. She doesn't speak, just pulls out her agiels and looks at Kahlan with an expression of wary determination.

Kahlan's brow furrows as she searches for words, but everything that passes through her mind seems woefully inadequate. With a shrug, she draws the Sword of Truth; words never seem to work out well with Cara, anyway.

They fall into what has become an easy rhythm, swing-parry-jab-block and again. They move together with a grace that would be deadly if they weren't so evenly matched. Kahlan presses the attack, backing Cara up against the side of the mountain they've spent the last few days climbing.

Cara blocks her downward swing with both agiels, and Kahlan pushes forward, forcing Cara's hands above her head. Barely a handsbreadth apart, their eyes lock and their chests rise and fall in unison as they pant from exertion and something more.

Tension is thick in the air, and it pulls Kahlan further in, closing the distance between them almost instinctively. Kahlan gasps at the feeling of Cara's lips melting under hers before the blonde musters the presence of mind to drop her agiels and grasp at Kahlan's shoulders.

The kiss is every bit the battle of wills that their sparring is; Kahlan is quickly forced to drop the sword to keep from being overpowered as Cara pushes against her. Her hands sink into blonde hair, tugging firmly as she presses her body tight against Cara's. She doesn't know whose tongue slips out first, but before long they are both locked in a fierce duel that only abates when the need for air outweighs their hunger for each other.

When Kahlan pulls away, gasping, Cara takes advantage of the break in focus to reverse their positions, pinning Kahlan against the rough stone with her wrists above her head. Hot breath brushes across Kahlan's lips as green eyes lock onto deep blue.

“Still want to know what I'm feeling?” Cara pants, a predatory smile on her swollen lips. Kahlan nods, swallowing in nervous anticipation. Her chest heaves against Cara's as the blonde leans in closer, her lips caressing Kahlan's ear as she purrs into it. “Like I'll go mad if I don't kiss you again.”

Kahlan's breath catches in her throat as Cara's lips slide down her neck, sucking gently at her pulse point. There are a million reasons why she shouldn't allow this, but somehow none of them seem to matter.

It turns out Cara had much more to teach Kahlan than either of them anticipated.

 

  
_end._   



End file.
